


sleeping next to you (is something I could get used to)

by betteronpaper



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, I think? its just, but - Freeform, domestic?, fluff is the closest thing i can put it to, its kind of nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 14:24:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5167142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betteronpaper/pseuds/betteronpaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>clarke is used to sleeping in the middle</p><p>or, as was the working title: bedsides</p>
            </blockquote>





	sleeping next to you (is something I could get used to)

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this ages ago, and just edited up a little. i got the idea from Teen Wolf stiles/malia cuddle scene. anyway. its not great, because its kind of nothing, but i had it and wanted to post something, while im busy with uni and then other, more fics, i guess. and its kind of fluffy -i was told its cavity fluff, idk - which is nice after my love remember me fic, i suppose. this isn't of the same quality, i don't think, but i hope you enjoy it for what it is.

                The day had been long, exhausting. This, along with the heat of late, had her groggy, unfocused and tired in an old, weary way where she had yearned for rest, for a moments sleep. While things were peaceful, there were still matters to attend to and issues to solve and so, as much as she had wont, Lexa could not spare time to nap throughout the day. Come night, though, the setting of the sun and the end of the day’s duties, Lexa was sufficiently drained, inwardly thankful nothing had over indulged her time. By the time she was in her tent her eyelids were heavy, sore almost from being open and wanting to be closed, to shroud the mind blank and black; and it was with slowness and carelessness Lexa stripped away her armour.

                Down to a loose shirt, dark and grey, Lexa pulled aside the tent flap to her bed, finding someone already there, resting, though not sleeping.

                “Clarke.”

                “Hey.”

                The blonde, hair slightly dishevelled and eyes gentle, sat up from where she laid, the fur covering slipping off her torso. Lexa’s eyes dropped to Clarke’s slightly revealed chest, as she too wore a singlet shirt, though white and loose. Her eyes only shifted from Clarke’s body when Clarke moved and was kneeling before her on the bed, arms around her neck. Clarke was warm, soft, and Lexa sighed with closed eyes as she leaned into the embrace and shared a few short, lazy kisses. She shouldn’t have, but she was tired, and resisting the blonde was hard enough with clear focus.

                “What are you doing here Clarke?”

                “Hoping I could stay with you. I’m leaving for camp Jaha tomorrow. I wanted time with you.”

                “You said not yet.”

                “And then I said slow steps. I’m not here to have sex, Lexa.”

                And Lexa nodded, sighed, as she selfishly accepted another kiss to the corner of her mouth, turned her head slightly for a chaste brush of lips.

                “Besides, you’re exhausted.”

                Lexa thought, for a moment, that if Clarke were ready, she would find herself re-energised, would be attentive and awake. But she wasn’t, not for that, and so Lexa let Clarke lead her under the covers, her body relaxing onto the bed. They were positioned toward each other, watching. Lexa would have memorised Clarke’s face had her eyes not demanded to close. There would be time enough for appreciation of Clarke's beauty later. Now, she was ready for sleep, and more than ready to sleep by Clarke. 

                Sleep, however, would not come easily. It was not long that the tossing and turning of Clarke rattled her consciousness from ever truly resting. Lexa had to supress a whine of a groan, of a grunt, not needing this sudden restlessness from Clarke, and she hoped it was not a continual occurrence for future bed sharing.

                For Clarke, it wasn’t something continual, or expected. She was fine alone. Clarke was used to sleeping alone, having slept in a single bed, a single cell, a single tent, where rugs and blankets were room enough for just one. When having shared in the past, it was usually after exhausting oneself, and still, even then, Clarke was used to being in the centre, the middle, which she was not now. Getting comfortable, then, was proving difficult. It was stupid, really, Clarke thought, huffed and shifted. She had slept on the _ground_ that was rocky and rough and cold. Why not the side of a comfortable bed surface, with the warmth of the rugs and the body next to her?

                Lexa was unsure of the problem, herself.

                “Clarke. Sleep.”

                Clarke’s lips twitched at hearing Lexa, at the voice laced with sleepiness, husky and low. She wouldn’t mind late conversations with that voice, wouldn’t mind falling asleep to it.

                “I’m trying, I just – I’m used to the middle.”

                “Then move there,” Lexa sighed, breathed, inhaled and exhaled in hopes of falling asleep right then and there.

                Clarke hesitated. She would be closer to Lexa, if she did. Clarke didn’t mind that, would prefer it in honesty; but she didn’t want to overstep or presume, though the pace of them, of her and Lexa, was all in her favour. Still, it didn’t take longer than a moment for Clarke to do as Lexa suggested as she shifted to the middle, and suddenly Lexa’s back, Lexa’s hair, soft and wild, was in her face. She breathed it in for a moment, and thought she could fall asleep then, but as soon as her eyes closed she knew she wouldn’t. It did not feel comfortable, feel right, with two of them in the bed, so she turned over and that too was wrong. Clarke huffed, puffed, again, and moved on her back. Still, it didn’t feel right. She had an idea to what it was, what was missing – contact. It was partly why she had been waiting for Lexa. She wanted to be close to her, bask in the comfort of her. But this Lexa needn't know, not in words, not yet.

                “Clarke.”

                “I’m sorry.”

                “Stop fussing.”

                “I don’t know why I’m not getting comfortable. Maybe… I – maybe if we spoon?”

                Lexa breathed, “So we spoon.”

                She didn’t know what ‘spooning’ was, though she knew of the spoon, could perhaps make deductions if she were more aware. But as it was she couldn’t think, or process. Her mind was blank and black. Sleep: that was all she wanted. Sleep and Clarke. If spooning was to have Clarke settle, sleep by her side, then she did not care. Lexa found out though, in her slow state of consciousness, when Clake wrapped an arm around her waist and stomach and pulled her close – back against Clarke’s chest, breasts full, soft. She felt Clarke head by hers, felt Clarke’s breathing by her neck, warm, welcomed, and she felt the rise and fall of Clarke’s chest, their breathing mingling. Lexa did not mind this, liked it, could melt into and fall asleep to it. If only Clarke could, as well.

                “This isn’t working…”

                Never had Lexa ever thought of hurting Clarke, not intentionally, not directly. Yet, for a moment, in that moment, she thought she could strangle the girl – though she knew she could never, not really. But the thought was entertained.  So she settled with an empty threat, her tone dozy, low and sleepy, but carrying enough annoyance with her usual indifference to satisfy her.

                “Clarke… I’m going to kill you.”

                Silence followed, but it was as temporary as the blonde’s previous positions. Too, she thought she could feel Clarke smile against her neck, thought she could feel the press of lips on her pulse. Given enough of those, she could sleep.

                “Hold on.”

                She felt Clarke move, pulling her along, directing her and Lexa blindly, trustingly, followed Clarke’s lead. Lexa felt her head rest on the blonde’s shoulder, comfortably in the crook of her neck while her arm draped over Clarke’s stomach. She could fall asleep, like this, too. It was warm, and Clarke’s neck, her chest, was snugly, and her senses dulled by Clarke’s cosiness and presence. She would not mind being the person holding, with Clarke safe, secure, in her arms. Either way, she was content to fall asleep, like this – as she was with previous position, and perhaps for nights to come. Of course, her hope, however small it was, that she could rest was soon shattered.

                “Nope.”

                Lexa would have sighed, if she had the motivation, would have rolled her eyes if they were open.

                “Clarke,” she said, rose off the blonde. “On your side. Back to me.”

                Clarke did as commanded as Lexa then rested back down, with Clarke following. Though, now, Lexa was holding, was spooning, her arm over Clarke. She buried her face in Clarke’s golden hair, inhaled the scent of the sky and sunlight now mingled with the forest and the earth. Clarke’s body nestled against her, as an armed covered her own on the blonde's stomach, by her chest. She was comfortable, was warm, could almost pull Clarke in closer. She liked holding Clarke. But this was not for Lexa's benefit. For some moments, Lexa waited for Clarke’s judgement. Spirits, she was tired. _So_ tired.

_Just sleep Clarke. So I can sleep._

               “Yeah…this is good.”

                _Good. Sleep well, Clarke._

               Lexa smiled softly, sighed quietly in relief, pressed a kiss to Clarke’s head, to her neck. She closed her eyes and it was not long that slumber came.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: darlingheda


End file.
